Æsthetic – Page 27 – Deborah Makarios

January 26, 2018

Upskilly & Stuff 1: The Kerchief

What could be a simpler beginning than a kerchief? Cut a square, hem the edges. Job done.

I’ve been meaning to make a brown kerchief for some time, all the more since I bought a dress in brown & cream and had nothing to wear with it that really went. In considering the brown fabrics in my stash, I discovered these:

Would you believe these are all from the same bolt of fabric, and purchased at the same time? At the top is the fabric as it came from the bolt; in the middle is the same fabric made up and lightly worn, and at the bottom is the same fabric made up and heavily worn. What can I say? It was only three dollars (NZ) per metre and I was a poor student.

So I’m not expecting this to hold its colour – but while it does, the middle fabric is a near perfect match for the brown of my dress. For some reason it (the fabric, not my dress) was in the form of a partially cannibalized medieval tunic. Why I made (or indeed wore) a medieval tunic I could not tell you, but there it is, and eminently fit for purpose.

The next consideration is size. My head is unusually small, and my smallest kerchief (which I only use for a splash of colour on top of a larger plain one) is 45 x 50cm. So that’s the minimum for me, plus a couple of centimetres each way for the hem.

Suggestion: measure around your head, add maybe 20cm allowance for tying (or more if your fabric is thick) and make that the hypotenuse of your kerchief. Remember: the square of the hypotenuse is equal to the square of the other two sides.

My ex-tunic is about 57cm wide, so I’m going to use that as my base: trim off the old raggedy hem and start afresh, beginning by drawing a thread and cutting it square. (Information on why and how can be found here.)

Full disclosure: I also got out the iron and pressed the rumpled edges down – despite it being 27*C – because I have reached the age where I like to take my time and do the job properly in all its details. If you’re not fussy about things coming out just so, then feel free to skip that step – just don’t blame me if the results are a little more slapdash than you were anticipating.

So, I’ve squared my edge, I’ve pressed it, and I’ve cut out my square. Now, technically, I already have a kerchief here, but it isn’t finished. There may be some who like the frayed look of an unfinished edge – yes? Raise your hand… and smack yourself firmly round the head with it and promise to reform hereafter. An unfinished edge is not only a fraying and falling apart edge with a short life span ahead of it, it is distressed. What kind of monster wishes to distress the poor fabric? Be kind; finish it properly.Now for the hem. My fabric’s middling thickness, so I’m going to do a simple double-fold hem. If it were thinner, I’d do a rolled/handkerchief hem by hand, but it would be too bulky with this fabric – it’s bulky enough as is, since I’m doing a narrowish hem to keep as much width in the kerchief as possible. Pressing with an iron is an option here, too, but I just use a firm finger-press unless the fabric’s being obstinate, followed by a series of pins.

I was originally planning to sew this by machine (I even oiled the machine specially) but then I discovered I didn’t have any thread which matched closely enough. So I’m doing a blind stitch hem, which comes out almost invisible on both sides – although how invisible remains to be seen when the fabric fades.

Here’s what it looks like on the wrong side:

The background (at top) is the dress – good match, isn’t it? My apologies for the blurriness – the camera phone doesn’t seem keen on close-ups. Here’s what the right side looks like (and this time, please note, the kerchief is at the top and the dress at the bottom):

The finished kerchief measures 57 x 56cm. Quite how this happened, considering the beginning measurements, I do not know. I assume it has something to do with flattening out the edges (formerly wedged against seams) with the iron.

But finished it is! The first step on the Upskilly & Stuff ladder has been taken; measuring, cutting, pressing, pinning and hemming have all happened, and a wearable garment is complete.

Next month: the apron!
In the meantime, I’d love to hear what you’ve been making – feel free to leave a comment below.

Please note: if you are unable to find the comment section, click on the post title. You’ll be taken to the full-width post page with comment section at end.

January 22, 2018

Versatile Clothing

What’s the most versatile garment in your wardrobe?

Probably the most versatile garment in my wardrobe is my laplap (aka lavalava, sarong, etc): two metres of fabric with the ends hemmed. In its time it has been a skirt, a shawl and a wall hanging, and there are plenty more uses I could put it to if I so desired.

January 12, 2018

Wardrobe Architect 1: Making Style More Personal

Where do you begin when creating a wardrobe? With garments? With colours? With styles? No – you begin with yourself.

In the first Wardrobe Architect exercise, we consider seven areas which affect who we are and how we dress: our history, philosophy, culture, community, activities, location and body. (Follow the previous link for a handy worksheet to note down your answers – thoughts become much clearer when you need to pin them down in visible form.)

History
I used to be a bit of a tomboy – short hair and shorts – but from my early teens moved toward length in both hair and clothing: long loose lower half with a somewhat more fitted upper half. I still wear similar looks, but I think my style has refined with time, as I filter out the things which aren’t quite me. I am still a fan of second-hand shopping, but given the difficulty of finding what I’m after second-hand, these days I buy most garments new: good-quality things which will last for years.

Philosophy
Being a devotée of Jesus Christ affects how I dress – not simply in how much of my body is covered (although that’s usually the first thing people notice) but also in less visible ways. I strive for clothing which doesn’t have a negative effect on the people or planet which produced it, and which doesn’t have a negative effect on me: no toe-mashing shoes or rash-inducing acrylics. Perhaps most important of all is the belief my faith gives me that I do not need to conform to the expectations of a consumer society.

Culture
I grew up in Papua New Guinea, with Melanesian modesty standards (must cover loosely from waist to knee). But I also have an overlay of Western culture, and the mix of the two has somehow come out a bit… historical-looking. Not of any one time, mind you, just definitely not modern. (Or post-modern, or whatever we’re up to now.)
Side note: I always find it strange when people ask me if I dress the way I do because my church says so. I have yet to see any other woman in this area who dresses the way I do, so what are people thinking? That I belong to a group so small I’m the only woman, or that I belong to some whacko group which only allows one woman out at a time? For the record, I am the only woman in my church who dresses like me.

Community
I imagine it takes a lot of courage to dress differently if you experience backlash from those near to you. Fortunately for me, I have friends who believe I should be allowed to dress however I choose, and even more importantly, I have a husband who supports me dressing as I choose – despite some people assuming that if a woman is wearing long skirts and a kerchief/bandanna, her husband must have decreed it and is clearly oppressing her. (The padlock possibly doesn’t help this.)

Activities
I like to walk freely in my clothes. I don’t like to run in them, but I like to be able to. So tight skirts and high heels aren’t gonna happen. I also like to be able to roll my sleeves up for cleaning, gardening etc. But I generally don’t go in for activities that require special clothing, or for which long skirts are impractical. (Apart from swimming, for which I have a burqini.)

Also: pockets. I always have a handkerchief and a propelling pencil (you never know when you might need to write something) except when I wear one of my pocket-free dresses. And then I fret. I almost feel like this should be under philosophy: I am a vehement antipocketlessite. Never shall I make a pocketless dress. (Cue “Scarlett O’Hara just before the intermission” moment.)

Location
I live in the south of the North Island of New Zealand. Lots of rain, and while temperatures are generally between 0ᵒC and 30ᵒC, the weather is very changeable (it comes from being surrounded by sea). This is a country where people go for an afternoon walk on a lovely sunny day, get lost, and die of exposure when the weather changes. There’s no putting your winter clothes away for the season here.
I remember once putting on cold-day clothes and by the time I’d walked a kilometre down the road to the bus stop, the temperature had gone up ten degrees, and the polyprop underlayer I was wearing was no longer welcome. So layers that can be easily removed (even in public) are the way to go, and separate wardrobes for different seasons is a non-starter. Flexibility is key. Clothes that can’t get wet are less than useful.

Body
I actually quite like my body. It’s fairly averageish in most directions, but not aesthetically unpleasing, I think. I do like dresses which observe my waist, but I don’t have as many as I’d like, because they’re hard to come by (dresses, that is; I only have one waist which is exactly as many as I’d like). Belts are handy in that respect. I feel the cold easily, especially in my feet, so I almost always wear sheepskin slippers (except when out and about). Being private about my body, I prefer clothes that stay in place when I move: e.g. don’t flash the people opposite if I lean over a pool table.

But enough about me; what about you? Feel free to share about one, some, all or none of these in the comments section (comments can be as long as you like), or leave a link to your own post about it, if blogging. And don’t forget there’s a worksheet on the Colette blog (link above) to aid in considering all these influences on the way you dress.

Next month: defining a core style!